Some of us were born to be in motion. We're the nomads, the gypsies, the seekers. Only at home when we're wandering away from it. We're turned on by the newness of it all. Stepping out the front door to finally feel like ourselves. Untethered. Insatiable.
If you're a nomad, you know it in your bones. You feel it in your cells. Stagnation terrifies you. The idea of one house in one suburb for the rest of your one life makes your soul ache.
We're alchemists. Obsessed with the pursuit of new sights and smells and tastes for our memory to flirt with. Nothing is sexier than the creative energy of a traveler on the road. It's orgasmic, primal.
This is the lust, you see, in the wandering.
See you in the wild beyond, love.
